


Disintegration

by scenikeight



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, One-Shot, based on the end pt 2, it has a pattern. it's kind of confusing. i'm sorry it's probably bad. these tags are bad goodbye, it's kind of...prose?, sort of ptsd but it's written in a way that could just be recounting idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 13:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6567973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scenikeight/pseuds/scenikeight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every second he can remember feels like a lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disintegration

_Every second he can remember feels like a lifetime._

One moment, he was on top of it all. High in the air, on a whim of euphoria, looking down at the result of his ‘triumph’ through bulletproof glass.

_It happened in a split second._

But he wouldn’t tell you about his lowest time. He couldn’t make himself remember it. It isn’t a part of his story, not anymore.  

_He can’t see. Why can’t he see? Everything is white, and then…_

When he looks in the mirror, or removes the glove from his hand, or feels the sting from contact made with his face, he doesn’t feel anything comparable to that expression of power he had once in his grasp.

_It all falls away. Or is he the one falling? Metal brushes his leg and then quickly disappears._

He feels sorry.

_It takes him more than a second to realise he has made contact with the ground._

He tells himself it’s not for his former friends. He had destroyed their home but they could always start again. They had it so much _better_ than he did.

_An arm. His arm? His arm didn’t look like that. No, his skin was…white, pale, smooth. Not deep and charred._

They should feel sorry for him. _Tom_ should feel sorry for him. But he won’t. He knows that. Tom did this to him.

_The cloud clears but his vision still feels restricted. Something’s wrong. He’s gone blind in one eye? No. Something’s **missing.**_

He has to live with this for the rest of his time. Just because of one. Little. Mistake. His head screams at him through the static of his wallowing to tell him he should be angry. Enraged. He should _try again._ But he isn’t. Intrusive thoughts have controlled him for far too long. No, he won’t act on them, not again. He won’t make the same mistake twice. But that doesn’t stop him from thinking them.

_He knows burn victims never fully recover. He’s going to look like this forever. He’s disgusting. A monster._

At least the outside matches the inside now.

**Author's Note:**

> that was terrible and probably didn't make any sense but i swear i had some kind of direction in mind


End file.
